


Hyacinths and Blasting Synths

by thelowlysatsuma



Series: Prompts from the Tumblr!verse [5]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Jealousy, M/M, Roman is a good boyfriend, aka virgil calls roman out on his bs, dealing with jealousy in a MATURE MANNER, talking out jealousy, who trusts virge to deal w/ flirts w/o intervening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 22:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18647344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelowlysatsuma/pseuds/thelowlysatsuma
Summary: He's not jealous. He'snot!It's totally alright that some random stranger just strolled up to his boyfriend and started flirting with him.Okay, so maybe Roman's a little bit jealous.





	Hyacinths and Blasting Synths

“Why are you so jealous?”

Roman blinks, then twists his face into a half-smile. “I- what? Jealous? _Me?_ I think _not_ , Edgar Allan Foe.”

Virgil rolls his eyes, leaning forward to swipe a hand through Roman’s hair and mess it up. Heathen. Why is Roman even dating him again?

His mind unwillingly replays the last five minutes, when some stranger (in, Roman will confess, an admittedly good outfit) sauntered up to his boyfriend while he was in line to get them drinks and started flirting. That’s okay! That’s their right. They couldn’t have known that Virgil was dating a handsome, talented guy such as he, after all!

Virgil raises a sardonic eyebrow, and Roman is snapped like an elastic back to present tense. He flushes and hastily shoves his hands in the pockets of his dark leather jacket.

“Fine, whatever, I was jealous. Can we get back to talking about how great I am, now?”

His boyfriend snorts. “Aw yeah,” he shoots back effortlessly, running a hand through (purple, pretty, _perfect_ ) hair, “like _that’s_ what we were talking about before this. ‘A’ for effort, Princey.”

Roman locks his gay thoughts down tightly, then preens. “It _was_ pretty good, wasn’t it?”

Virgil laughs, then sobers up. “Come on, man,” he presses, laying a soft hand on his boyfriend's shoulder. “Let’s just talk about this like the responsible adults we – well, _I_ – pretend to be, and then we can go back to our table and you can stuff your face with those Crofter’s cookies when you think I’m not looking, ‘kay?”

Roman huffs a sigh, crossing his arms petulantly. “Fine.”

Virgil, gods-damned emo nightmare he is, just reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out his fingerless gloves ( _seriously?_ Roman’s clearly dating a fashion disaster). Sliding them on his fingers (and not missing how Roman's eyes track the motion hawkishly), he says, “Listen, Roman. I.. get.. not liking people flirting with me. Ah buh buh,” he continues, most rudely cutting off his boyfriend's attempts to defend himself, “but I also see you trying, and like. Not intervening. And letting me get rid of the guy on my own. Which I appreciate.”

Roman’s eyebrows furrow. “Really?” he asks, voice small, hands suddenly unable to decide whether they’d rather be grabbing at his sleeves or fiddling with his cuffs.

Virgil quirks a half-smile. “Yeah.”

Roman visibly relaxes, fingers going mercifully slack. “Oh. Nice. Nice!” he blabbers, before Virgil steps closer and his breath hitches.

“And, uh, just sayin’,” Virgil adds, scratching nervously at his neck, even as he begins to lean forward, (and oh, Roman thinks, how the air heats and crackles between them at that), “when I said I get you not liking people flirting with me, I, uh. I _get_ it.”

Roman’s eyebrows shoot up, and a grin starts playing about his lips. “Ha!” he crows, rocking back on his heels and cackling internally at Virgil’s near-imperceptible noise of disappointment as he does. “Oh how the _turns_ have _tabled!_ ”

Virgil stares at him flatly for a moment. Then: “I’m leaving you,” he says, deadpan, spinning on his heel and making to head back into the bustling party with a salute.

“Wait, wait, no no no no no!” Roman cries, throwing himself forward to catch up with his surprisingly agile boyfriend. He smiles up at him when he does, putting as much charm into the act as he can muster, and he gloats internally as he sees Virgil melt. “You couldn’t leave all _this_ , could you?”

Virgil taps a finger to his lips, considering the statement. “I dunno,” he smirks, easily dancing his way out of Roman's arms and making to leave again. “Gimme one good reason to.”

Roman beams, and leans in for a kiss.


End file.
